The Contest
by StarWarrior72
Summary: As nights in the Hoth base get longer, and, to Luke's dismay, even colder, the rebels struggle to find something to do with their suddenly abundant free time. An innocent request might solve both problems. ONESHOT


"Leia?" Luke slipped into the room sideways, nervously poking at the ground with one foot.

Leia looked up from what she was doing, scribbling hastily on a datapad, "Yes, Luke?"

"Um," Luke started, feeling more awkward by the moment, "I know you might be mad that I asked you first, because you're a girl, but Han didn't seem like the type, and-,"

Leia put down her datapad and looked at him strangely, "What is it?"

Awkwardly, Luke pulled into the room what he'd been dragging behind him, "Um, I bet you've noticed how much I've been using this recently," he said, holding up the blanket from his bed, "I mean, even with it I still can't seem to get warm, but I keep hoping that'll change, and it's kind of worn through. I've applied for a new one, but it's not going to get to me for at least a couple more days, and I wondered if you could patch it for me."

He held out the frayed blanket and a patch taken from a shirt that had been torn in a battle a few months ago, but he had failed to throw out, and smiled hopefully, "I already tried myself, but I don't think I'm cut out for sewing," he continued, holding up his left hand, which was positively riddled with needle pricks.

Leia stood up, laughing, "You didn't need to mutilate yourself before asking for help."

"I just thought… I mean, the Empire tends to act like it's all girls are good for," Luke said awkwardly, "I didn't want to offend you."

Leia had taken the blanket and the old scrap of shirt from Luke, and was looking at them, turning them around, apparently trying to gauge how best to cover the hole, "Just because I'm good at other things doesn't mean I can't be good at sewing," she answered distractedly.

"Well, if you could just sew that together so that it won't fall apart again for a few days, that'd be great."

"This won't take ten minutes," Leia answered, already threading a needle, "If you'd like to sit down, maybe you could help me organize these files."

Luke looked over at the files scattered across the table, "I don't think you really want me touching those," he said honestly, "I don't know the first thing about all your paperwork."

"Just put it in alphabetical order by title," Leia told him, starting to sew.

Luke looked doubtfully at the stack of papers, but picked it up. Alphabetical order was within the realms of his comprehension. He'd made it into the Fs by the time Han entered, and he immediately knew that things were going to go downhill quickly.

Han took one look at Leia, quietly focussed on Luke's blanket, and let out a snort, "Never thought I'd see you doing that," he said.

"Doing what?" Leia asked, looking up with the expression of confusion she sometimes took on when distracted from something that had her full attention. It was, unfortunately, the helpless damsel in distress right down to the wideness of the eyes.

Luke wished he could run away.

"Doing a woman's work," Han continued, apparently without noticing the shift in the environment, or possibly simply enjoying goading Leia as he so often did.

"A woman's work?" Leia asked, apparently having forgotten she was holding a worn blanket and patching it for her friend.

"Sure, sewing, you know, _handicrafts._ Feminine stuff," Han said, and it was clear that he was mocking Leia.

Leia had returned from her trance, and Luke was unsure whether this was for the better, or the worse, "Ah," she said, looking back down at her work, "Yes," she looked back up at Han, light in her eyes, "Well, you're lucky this woman can do them, I'd like to see you try. Even Luke doesn't think you could do it."

"Hey now!" Luke protested, "I think my exact words were 'not the type'!"

Leia had put down his blanket and was approaching Han with greater menace than she usually adopted for battles, "No, not the type at _all_. Not the type for anything as complicated or fine as sewing. I'm sure the simple action of putting a needle through a piece of cloth would be far too difficult for him."

"You think I'm incompetent!" Han blustered.

"Yes," Leia continued, "I do."

Frustrated that his mocking had been turned on him, Han raised his voice further, "I can sew at least as well as you!"

"Prove it!" Leia shouted.

They stood, glaring at one another for a moment before Luke found the courage to break the mutual death stare, "How?"

They both turned to him at once, "How?" they asked in unison.

"How are you going to prove who's better?" Luke asked.

Leia and Han returned to glaring at one another, each daring the other to come up with a challenge first. It was Leia, at last, whose eyes lit with a devious idea, "We'll each make Luke a blanket. It's not too difficult, I won't ask you to make clothing, but you have to make a blanket. We have a week to do it, it needs to have a surface area at least one foot wider in all directions than a standard single bed, it needs to be at least somewhat aesthetically pleasing, and it has to keep him warm. And that makes you the judge," she finished, turning to look at Luke.

Luke didn't want to judge any competition between his friends, as any verdict was bound to make one of them angry. He started to shuffle his boots against the ice floor, trying to think of a way to refuse.

"_Won't you?_" Leia asked dangerously, and Luke found himself nodding just so that she would look away and he wouldn't be skewered on her harsh gaze.

"Good," Han said, "I can't wait to hear her highness get the truth from you," he started to march away, "She obviously thinks she's got you under her thumb."

Luke watched him go, and started squirming. He didn't like how he'd been dragged into one of their fights, which he usually worked so hard to stay out of. Leia, on the other hand, simply sat back down and returned to her sewing.

"What if he beats you?" Luke asked nervously, returning to alphabetizing the papers in order to return to calm.

Leia laughed, jabbing the fabric of Luke's blanket with her needle, "Beat me? I've seen Han try to get a wire through a hole in the wall for twenty minutes before giving up. He'll be lucky if he can thread a needle."

"What if he gets Threepio to do it for him?"

"If he asks a droid to do it, the stitches will be impossibly precise. Don't worry, I can tell the difference."

"I'm not worried about you," Luke muttered under his breath.

"You think he'll hurt you if you don't say his is better?" Leia asked, incredulous.

"Of course not. I'm afraid his feelings will be hurt."

Leia finished her sewing and snipped the thread, passing Luke's blanket back to him. Luke immediately wrapped it back around his shoulders.

"Don't worry about his feelings. I never do, not when he starts it."

"Someone has to," Luke answered, "Anyway, thanks for your help. I guess I'll just have to answer honestly. Just promise you won't be mad if he does win."

Leia smiled, "I promise."

Knowing that Han would return soon, looking to humiliate Leia properly, Luke took his blanket back to his room and sat down on his bed, shivering. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of this competition. Han and Leia could both be incredibly competitive, and neither liked losing. He was afraid that his friendship with one would take a dip, no matter how honest his decision was. Besides that, despite Leia's help, the blanket was still not enough to keep him warm.

Suddenly, there was a knock at his door, "Hello?" he asked, and the door opened to reveal Han, who was looking extremely on edge.

"Kid, we've got a problem."

Luke threw off the blanket, standing up and reaching for his blaster, "We do?"

"Not that kind of problem," Han shook his head, "The problem is _I can't sew!_"

"Why is that my problem?" Luke asked, if anything more worried about this problem than the threat of Imperial discovery.

"I can't let Leia find out! She'll laugh me all the way back to Ord Mandel. You've gotta help me. Chewie's paws are too big for him to hold a needle, and I don't know who else I can ask!"

Luke held up his hand, displaying the pinpricks again, "Why did you think Leia was fixing my blanket?" he asked, scooping it up again and wrapping himself in it.

"Dunno," Han said, and Luke heard sarcasm, "Because you wanted her to have held it?"

Luke felt himself blush. The thought hadn't crossed his mind, he'd only wanted to be warmer. He shook his head, but knew that it couldn't have been very convincing.

Han nodded mockingly.

"Look, do you want my help, or not?"

"You just made it pretty clear you can't help me."

Realizing his mistake, Luke backtracked as fast as possible, "I showed you I can't _sew_, but I don't think Leia ever directly said you had to. She just said you had to make it. So make it some other way."

"Do I look like a knitter to you?"

"Not knitting, or crocheting either," Luke continued, wracking his brains for another possible way to make a blanket, "Maybe felting?"

"Felting?" Han asked, "I thought felt was made by machines."

"Well, yeah, it is," Luke admitted, "But I've heard it's pretty easy. I think you just need some kind of woolly fiber…"

"Which would be easy to get if we lived on a planet with sheep, or even banthas, but we don't, do we? Chewie wouldn't thank me if I asked for his fur."

Luke snorted, "I wouldn't think he would. But they kill wampas occasionally, maybe you could see if they've got one around right now and if you could have its fur?"

Han seemed to be giving this idea thought, "Then what would I do with the wampa hair?"

Luke crossed his arms, "I'm not the creative director. You can look that up yourself."

Han walked out, and in the direction in which they usually kept any wampa bodies. Since it had clearly been an ineffective way of avoiding the frustrated smuggler, Luke stood and returned to the common room he'd found Leia in.

"Hey," he said, sitting down beside her. She had put aside the stack of papers and was now working with a number of cloth strips.

"Hello," she answered, sewing two of the strips together with remarkable speed.

"Sorry I pulled you away from what you were doing. If you gave yourself a week to work on this I'm guessing you won't be getting much done."

Leia shrugged, already adding another strip and starting to sew it to the first two, "That's all right. I've been doing Threepio's work for a while. There's not much to do here, not even for the High Council. Let him organize files for a week, it gives him purpose."

From the hallway came the sounds of a commotion, and Han's voice said loudly, "Come on, Chewie, we need to get this thing back to the _Falcon_."

"What _is_ he doing?" Leia asked curiously.

Luke stood up, "I'm not totally sure," he walked to the door and poked his head out, closely followed by Leia.

"Is that a wampa he's pulling?" Leia asked, incredulous.

A smile spread across Luke's face, "Yeah, I think it is."

Han, Chewbacca, and a couple of unfortunate lifting droids were dragging the carcass of a huge, white beast down the hall. As they reached the door, Han looked up at Luke and Leia, "They didn't have one," he gasped, "So I got my own." He then returned to dragging the wampa down the hallway, and Luke and Leia could only stare after him.

After several minutes, Han was long gone, and the two of them returned to the sofa they'd been sitting on.

"What is he going to do with a fully grown wampa?" Leia asked, "Skin it?"

Luke shivered, "I hope not."

Smiling, Leia shook her head, "I didn't think he'd find a way to solve this problem with his blaster."

Luke laughed, "You obviously under-estimated him."

"I must have."

As she rapidly sewed two more strips together, Luke had to ask, "How did you get so good at sewing anyway?"

Leia snickered, "My father used to take me all over the galaxy, and that meant a lot of time in a ship. For a long time I liked to play hide-and-go-seek, but after I once accidently turned off the hyperdrive, Father kept me busy."

"I _guess_," Luke said, amazed. He watched her sewing for a few more minutes before speaking again, "I think I'm going to go get myself some dinner. Want me to get you anything?"

Leia shook her head, once more fully absorbed by her project, "I'll get something later," she answered.

"Okay. Goodnight," Luke turned and walked down to the mess hall.

The next seven days passed in a blur of Han running around collecting felting materials. Luke spent most of it sitting with Leia, watching her sew, and occasionally running around with Han looking for extra soap, or a wire hairbrush, when he got too cold from sitting still. By the time the week was over, Luke was sure that Han had succeeded in somewhat curbing the wampa population within a several kilometer radius of the base. Leia had also asked for the remains of the shirt he had taken the blanket's patch from, and eventually the old blanket, once the new one had arrived. He had slowly given her every torn item in his closet, and he was quite certain that he would see them all again.

While his friends had been so busy, Luke had found himself a good spot in the base, which was the cafeteria. Since it was filled with rebels almost constantly, the ceiling had been reinforced with metal, and it was heated by a small radiator and the body heat of however many hundred beings occupied it at a time. It was still warmer in the kitchen, so Luke had taken to volunteering in there, as near the ovens as possible, and although his fellow volunteers had quickly learned that he shouldn't be entrusted with cooking basics, they had allowed him to continue visiting, standing as near the ovens as he could, making salads, and occasionally, toast.

So it was that the next week, Leia was to be found ordering her friend from the cafeteria. He took out the most recent toast, and, passing it to the customer, came out from behind the counter.

"You finished your contest?" he asked.

Leia nodded, and led him back out of the cafeteria. She showed him back to the common room the three of them had unofficially claimed, where Han was already sitting, along with Chewie and the droids. Across Han's lap was the thickest, furriest blanket Luke had ever seen.

Leia pushed him onto the sofa, and hurried off, apparently to retrieve her creation.

Looking down at the blanket on his lap, Han said, "I'm still not sure how you talked us into this. You must be better at conning than I thought."

Luke smiled and shook his head, "This wasn't me," he said, "This is all Leia. She was the one who challenged you."

As he began to shiver, used to the warmth of the kitchens, Han put the blanket he'd made around Luke, "You're not complaining about the extra blankets, though," he laughed.

Wrapping the furry pelt further around his shoulders, Luke smiled, "No way."

At that moment, Leia returned, carrying a carefully folded quilt. She passed it to Luke, and sat down on his other side. Luke unfolded the quilt, smiling as he recognized patches of a couple of his old shirts, as well as part of his old, torn poncho and some white fabric it was fairly safe to guess had come from Leia's wardrobe. She seemed to have also wheedled some old clothes out of Han, as a number of patches noticeably contained the Correlian blood stripe. Besides their old clothing, there were patches from other cultures, some of them bright and cheery, others subdued. Flipping it over, Luke recognized a standard rebel-issue blanket, which was what he'd assumed his old one would go to, but this had no patch.

"Where'd you get the backing?" Luke asked curiously.

"It's my blanket," Leia told him, "I'm using your old one."

Luke immediately felt guilty for letting her take an old frayed one, and give him one in better shape, "You can have my new one. I don't think I'm gonna need it."

Luke slipped off Han's blanket and put Leia's around his shoulders, testing it for warmth. He sat a moment, waiting for it to warm up before deciding his judgement, "Well," he started, putting Han's blanket on again as well, and feeling properly warm for the first time in months, "Leia's definitely looks nicer."

This was true. Han's looked very much like he had just found an immensely matted wampa and shaved it, rather than put an entire week's worth of work into it.

"Ha!" Leia said, looking over at Han, "I told you! And I thought this was a contest of _sewing,_" she said, showing Han the edge of his felted blanket.

"But you didn't actually say that in your rules," Luke interjected before the arguing could get dangerous. He then continued with his decision, "But Han's is warmer. They obviously both meet the time and size requirements," he continued, holding them up. In fact, Han's blanket could have covered most of the floor of Luke's room, "So that means you've tied."

"You thought I was incompetent," Han returned, "I told you I could do housewifey things."

"Actually," Leia said pensively, "Felting was usually done by the children, since it's so easy."

Han immediately reddened, "You're making that up."

"Of course I'm not," Leia said disparagingly, "It doesn't get much easier than matting some clingy wool."

"Did the children have to go _wampa hunting?_" Han demanded.

At this, Leia's fierce demeanor was somewhat ruined by the smile of amazement that often took her when Han had performed a particularly tricky piece of thinking with his blaster, "No, they didn't."


End file.
